


Measure

by altairattorney



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Introspection, M/M, Post-Star Trek I: The Motion Picture, sticks to canon until the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23720497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altairattorney/pseuds/altairattorney
Summary: The same unknown tomorrow, the same wandering feet. The difference is, he is no longer lost.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Measure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsikIkisa (Pomelofangirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomelofangirl/gifts).



> Hang my head about as if we never had the time  
> To draw it on the walls - what's all the trouble?  
> Push my mind around as if it's warming up your hand  
> As if it's softer than the land, all soaked and supple
> 
> \- Purity Ring, stillness in woe

From his bed, Spock watches time as it refuses to pass.

Nothing is out of the ordinary, at least in the meaning of the word which can fit their missions. The trouble is over, his duties completed, and the ship glides steady on its return course.

No, the stillness is all in his head – it is his own presence, his sense of reality, to have been turned upside down.

At this point, he has learnt and accepted it. He can never go back to the old ways. It would have been his first course of action before, and true it had become such a short time ago.

But he knows today, in this exact instant – whatever he was looking for, drowned in the hot winds of Vulcan, lies elsewhere.

Even on his home planet, the clear paths trodden by his logic were not enough to cloud the stars. His gaze swam to them each evening, in and out of meditation, with a familiar obstinacy Spock realizes is not entirely his own. The night tore the veil of sand apart to claim him back, unrelenting reminder of what he could not shut out.

He needed all his strength not to count the constellations in a trance. He fought hard not to lose himself, so he could start over the next morning.

The sky still hovered on, like an omen, until the very last day. The call turned his face upwards in a jolt, and brought him all the way to here.

He is in almost caught in the same suspension as then. Even among the walls of his little cabin, Spock feels himself float within the depths of the cosmos. Tears made of glowing celestial bodies linger on his lashes, and his fascinated soul caresses space dust.

The same unknown tomorrow, the same wandering feet. The difference is, he is no longer lost.

In the world of a few hours ago, distances mattered so much to him. Every light year to part the two of them was a layer of safety, draped over the hint of agony he thought he would suppress. Every glance, every touch pulled them too close; every stare and soft word cut his breath short, leaving his rationality to wither and gasp for air. He had been so afraid – so terrified – with every step they took.

But how can he feel scared today, right after a true void scorched his bones?

That the world lies at a standstill, and his intentions with it, is merely a sign he is adjusting to the idea. Spock wishes to figure out his next move – the need to will always be a part of him, regardless of what lies in store. The things he cares about so much more, in this fluid current of thought, are things he used to deem unthinkable.

They are one and the same, the silence whispers to him. His former fears and the future he wants. The infinite expanses of before become closeness, absence becomes touch.

Jim's hand in his, the look in his eyes – they were enough for him to choose. From that moment on, he was going to pursue the life they were meant to live.

He forgives himself for not seeing it before. In a most logical way, his escape to the familiar made sense. All he wanted, all he looked for, was a way home.

How is it any different than what he wants now?

To his awoken mind, after all, everything is relative and new. Time and dimensions are not the same anymore. He is aware he rests in the folds of a sanitized night, adrift in a space which does not care for laws and conventions.

Spock has no more need for them, either. Wherever he walks next, the ice-cold certainty V'ger gave him will follow, engraved into his skin.

So he remains alone, to contemplate his temporary immobility. But when the time comes to act, in enchanted wonder, he finds out he needs no instructions.

There is no worry when Jim comes to find him, and calls his name in delicate concern. There is only silence, a pure absence of noise. Spock extends his arm towards him; without a word, their hands hold onto each other again.

No distance between them now. Not yesterday, not tomorrow, either. He is there – at the core of his mind, as he always was and will always be.

Jim speaks to him, his mouth unopened. Spock answers. Soothing, precise, he counts every warm knuckle with his thumb.

It does not matter where they are, or how far apart, in the boundless measure of the universe. They stand together.

And that, Spock reveals to himself, means he is finally at home.

**Author's Note:**

> A heartfelt giftfic for a dear friend, inspired by my experience of love and distance, with the hope that she can find her footing and her home. Post-TMP, disregarding whatever comes after. I never wrote for this series I love dearly and, well, I hope I did it even a little bit of justice.


End file.
